The Easy Target
by WickedGame
Summary: When are they going to learn that Quatre was a Gundam pilot too? A little 34.


Title: The Easy Target

Author: WickedGame

Archive: "No Rest For the Wicked" http/wickedgame. ffnet, mediaminerorg, my LJ

Category: angst, drama, one-shot

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: violence, foul language, shounen ai

Disclaimers: I do not own Gundam Wing

Notes: Written as a gift for Misanagi in exchange for three LJ icons designed for me. I hope she likes it, even thought it is angsty. A fic about Quatre was the order, and this is what came out no matter what I tried to do. Beta-ed by Adaina.

It was a typical evening, save one thing: nothing had been going right for the rich and powerful former Gundam pilot Quatre Winner. There were a lot of things he wished to curse: the taxis for being full, the subway for being down, the buses for running late, and his own car for breaking down only hours earlier.

He could have called another car. He could have hired a limo. Instead he decided to walk the two miles home to his penthouse and to his boyfriend. It was ten in the evening and still seasonably warm, so he was not uncomfortable, just grumpy.

It could be dangerous to walk these streets at night, but to Quatre the danger lie not in himself being attacked and killed. No, the danger lay with the people who thought he was an easy target.

Quatre had never grown very tall. He suspected his heritage had something to do with that. Often people mistook him for weak, but appearances could be deceiving. Too bad people did not heed that advice more often. His pale, blond hair and large, aquamarine eyes did not lend themselves to a vision of strength and skill either. All in all he was just too pretty for anyone to think of as tough he guessed.

That's exactly why walking down these streets was dangerous. A mugger or a rapist would see a weak nancy-boy and jump him in a second. And as much as he advocated peace and non-violence, he knew that he would still fight anyone who tried to take advantage of him. He had not let it happen during the war and he would not let it happen now. Hell, he did it in the boardroom all the time. Once those pretty eyes narrowed and hardened Quatre Winner would chew you up and spit you out. Some of his competitors had learned that the hard way.

Lost in thought, Quatre was ashamed that he did not hear the mugger until it was too late. The man was on him before he even had time to formulate a plan.

Quatre reacted with skills that were deeply engrained. His memory called up hypotheticals and counter attacks in a flash.

It was not that Quatre was afraid of being hurt. He was as well trained as any of his fellow pilots in combat. Granted, his style was more like Trowa's and Duo's than Wufei's and Heero's, but he could definitely hold his own in any fight.

That's why, when the knife hit his neck, Quatre quickly brought up his hands and grabbed the wrist holding it so that he could flip his attacker over his head. With a thud the man hit the cement, and Quatre quickly stepped on his neck.

"That was foolish of you," Quatre commented softly as the man struggled to breathe.

Quatre carefully considered what to do. With a little more force he could kill this man. But when he was in a position to let live he would, so he eased off the guy's neck just enough to let him breathe again.

Out of his pocket came a cell phone that he dialed quickly, "This is Quatre Winner. I am in front of Crawford's Deli and a man just tried to mug me," he paused and listened, "No, I'm fine. I have the man in custody."

He looked at the mugger and sighed, "You could have died, you know," he told the shocked man, "I was a Gundam pilot. I blew up a whole colony once. I could have killed you very easily. Maybe next time you will think before you act."

Quatre accepted a ride home from the authorities after they had taken the man away and had gotten his statement. He entered the elevator, rode it to the penthouse, and then got out.

Trowa was waiting for him on the couch, albeit half-asleep. He rose when Quatre entered and then looked at him curiously, "What happened?"

Quatre removed his suit jacket and folded it over the back of a chair, "A man tried to mug me."

"He cut you," Trowa commented, gesturing towards Quatre's neck.

Quatre shrugged, "Better me than him. He snuck up on me while I was thinking."

Trowa hugged Quatre and sighed sympathetically, "It will take many years for all of us to get over old habits."

Quatre hugged Trowa back and blinked back tears, "I just wish it wasn't so hard Trowa. I just wish it wasn't so hard to be normal."

-The End-


End file.
